A tour by train in 5 dazzling European cities

After a century of the original golden age of the railroad, trains are talking about traveling once again. In Europe, especially, train travel is growing as an environmental option for short-hall flights, with more night trains, high speed routes and international cooperation between railway companies. Political relations between European countries may be irritable, but the cities are more connected than before.

Trains also return us to travel romance. Hours of peace invite reading and contemplation because landscapes reveal geography between destinations – the opposite Zen of the fritured tadium of air travel.

I visit Sweden annually from my home in Florence, Italy. To search for contemporary culture of other cities and cut flight, I prepared a train Odyssey from the Mediterranean South to Scandinavian North. Can a trip with so many providers and legs really work? Using a hodpace of railway sites, I booked a two-week-long journey program of high-speed trains from Milan to Stockholm, with stopover in Jurich, Berlin and Copenhagen: Five cities in five countries.

A word of advice: Book one or two months in advance to get the best value; Check if an urela or interrel pass can benefit you; And pack meals – food service on these routes is spotted and, when available, terrible industrial.

With suggestions from local friends rather than visit to sightseeing, I was ready to cross the continent.

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Milan has resumed itself A lively city, which is full of high-polish people, things that are. An international flight hub, it is a convenient initial point for travelers coming from abroad.

My first stop was the Prada Foundation, whose contemporary exhibitions give the city a remedy for calm and cultural relevance. Moving towards Korso Venezia, I pronounced wild experiments in the 20th -century architecture through a park and surrounding roads, then visited the Luigi Rovati Foundation, with the 19th -century Palajo modern by architect Mario Kukenela.

In the evening, a friend included me in Nolo-Piazel Loreto’s north neighborhood for a long time. After an Epheritiveo in La Bote Fetley, a wine bar sometimes hosted and performs small concerts, we reached Piyaja Morbaggno, where we dined in Silvano, which has been packed since last year. Chef Vladimiro Poma said about his “Gastronomy for All”, “My dream was a place with happy customers, not a Michelin Star.”

When I crashed on a friend, passengers can try the new Casa Bivio Hotel (300 Euro, or approximately $ 315) in a pair of residential buildings with mid-conteer-inspired suites by architect Matio Thun.

Departure from Central Station, its art deco and rational architecture, its growing hall and Roman-style mosaic, its fascist-era’s Magalomaniak scale and indiscriminately plaster advertisements and LED screens, always confiscate me with astonishment and anger. I climbed the line for Zurich.

A impeccable Swiss train (3.5 hours; 34 Swiss Frank tickets, or approximately $ 38), I noticed that the soft slope of Italy gives way to Cragi Cliff faces in Switzerland. The waterfalls burst from the rocks, with wildflower meadows and black-and-white cows with wreaths in clouds with ice-covered alpine peaks-a fictional landscape.

On a short walk from the station, I dropped my luggage into Locke’s AM Plotz (from 150 Frank), which was opened with Swiss design-inspired apartment-style rooms last year.

In a few days, I wandered from naked, a riverfront cafe at Tanzan’s cruelist headquarters; For Löwenbräukunst Art Center, a beer factory converted into art places; Josephisy Park with its petty crowd and Alpine Shale Bar.

From Bürkliplatz flea market, I entered the galleries with ramistras before reaching the largest museum in Kunthaus-Sleetzerland after doubling my spaces with David Chipperfield’s beautiful concrete-block monolith in 2020. Inside, the effects of permanent collection were hung between viewing surveys, such as: How to treat these tasks donated by Nazi weapons dealer?

Zurich is built on the banks of a swimmer lake, and the streets of its painting-book are background by the Ara-Danteed mountains-a pleasant association of nature and a immaculate city. However, the rot fabric has a vibe shift, a factory that has become a screwhy center for alternative culture, where a new generation is packing the calendar with music, parties and drag shows. In his graffiti-signed courtyard, DJS exploded the music of the house in a day’s rave, while a pack “Quir Tango” class proceeded inside. For all estimated orders of Zurich, there is also a prosperous and uncontrolled flip side.

Across the lake, Le Korbassier Pavilion, a radical 1967 home-turn-mazium, stood like a huge pile of rainbow toy blocks. Hopping on the boat for the center, I closed by Heisswein, an informal natural wine bar that serves small plates and his own pickle vegetables. Back to my hotel, I sat on the balcony and performed a miracle on the satisfaction of the city.

Berlin

Deutsche bahn trained in the train (from 70 euros), but the trip scenes were built with Cornfields and Wineyard Hills, which moved to the flatlands before a shock of skyscrapers in Frankfurt. We stopped outside the Berlin for an hour, and spread over nine hours as the longest leg of my trip, I broke my cardinal rule of avoiding the refreshments of the train with a red wine taste of artificial oak and frustration.

A 15-minute metro ride from the station, the Hoxton Hotel (from 100 Euro), was opened in the last summer, which was expected to be a warm place in Strait-Laced Charlottenberg. The pastel attractions of the housing were working – I spied music composer Devendra Banhart for breakfast.

I rushed the bike around the beautiful Pranzalaur Berg with a friend, which remembered the neighborhood, when the years of my recent yoga and ceramic studios, it was full of coal-hot squats. I noticed in the evening to come alive from a window seat in a new wine bar, and found a fading of food in a imaginative Berlin, Sathutu on the tastes of Sri Lankan.

Berlin is a muscle city, with epic post-wise Bullewards and Pharonic East-West-West Architecture. In a memorial plaza of the 1950s, in Kilturforam, I from a museum to the next-source van Der Rohe Ki Neshanlagalary Building, Gemeldeglery of Great Masters, the old cinema organs of my home-shaped and Saturday’s performance to the airy museum of musical instruments.

Against Berlin’s shocking scale, the city’s trees-rich river and canals provided relief for groups of local people: Goth punk, regularly punk, barefoot new-hippie and swollen-one citizenship in weeds, but even in hard drugs and a plane-air sex act.

Even as the fare increases, Libertin Bhavna looked radiated.

Copenhagen

From Berlin, a journey of about eight-hours (60 Euro) took me through the German cookie-cities of A-frame houses, but when I wake up with a nap in the oversize armchair of the train, the scene was turned into a disorganized areas of golden wheat bounded by wildfers: I reached Denmark.

In Copenhagen, the rain came down in a tough slant, yet the bike lanes were busy as cyclists in popsical-colored parks, who were children out of Christiania cargo boxes. The well-protected city with centuries-old apartment buildings of brick or bright paint was clean-so clearly nutritious and well-working that I could be the only Jaywalker in the city.

I extended towards cisternerne, converted an underground water reservoir, with its open pool, in an unusual art place. In the near darkness, I crossed a gangway over the tank water, covered by Terin Simon with a piece of sound-like sound. Emerging for rain clouds, I stopped by Rosenborg Castle Garden, then stopped the local favorite like Norrebro Neberhood and Wine Bar Pompet of Vintage Shops. Even the most small roads were bike lanes.

The next day, Riviera was inaugurated, the third cafe of talented baker Chiara Barla, with dishes with Denmark and its original Italy. Equipped by spare designs by my own furnace in the corner corner, I ate beeted sour bread and apricot ricota cake. “People are working well in Copenhagen,” Ms. Barla said, smiling.

Taking a faster metro for Amazer Island, I left the center for an epervous in Josephine, a circus-colored liquor bar, the brand-new hotel Bela Grande, where I first dropped my belongings-where I first dropped my belongings-the most inspiration, Damask County and Space-Eg Lamps, with the lamps, and even more modern and jointly.

Stockhom

Except for a station like Copenhagen’s Castle, the train (35 euro to 5.3 hours) discovered a five-mile bridge connecting Denmark and Sweden, which was opened in 2000 as a symbol of shared European Union Observation. Birds surrounded by Marsh chased the train on the border, which was made of Oresund straight water.

Tattred but compassionate mute train from car windows, I saw the passing show: Falu Red Farmhouse, Cows and Growth of Growth, flickering the shimmer of lakes. I saw rabbits and deer amidst thin birch and took the train to the islands that make the train at the mouth of the Baltic Sea before the train.

I moved to östermalm for a cinnamon dawn shell in Stona Bagreet inside the 17th century industrial building, with the home of the Swedish Museum of Performing Arts. In a nearby Nybroviken, a Gulf where boats depart for the archipelago, I opted for boats and boat for a jungle island, which was once royal hunting fields, contemporary art exhibitions and raw concrete of Liljewelch to visit the new hall, then to walk the braids for modern music.

One evening I stayed in Bruteliston, where I was found by artist and owner, Carston Holer, dined on a window table, and sample a multi-muscular conference. Another night, friends and I nested in the corner of a french-inspired natural wine restaurant Frammat in a dull, comfortable basement in Vasastan. “In Stockholm, we are obsessed to find out what is next and what is good,” one of my tablemets said.

I wanted to live in Södermalm, Eclectic Bar’s Stockholm Island, Youth Creative and Paternity-Leave Dads squads with my offspring in Babibjorn’s, so I found a room in Hotel Frantz (140 Euro), which was originally an antics in guesthouses, which was originally an anticid in 1647.

Across the street, I took a lift to 1135 cocktail lounge Cantillar’s 11 stories on Sordermalam’s Waterfront, with scenes of Stockholm’s port and Swedish Grace Architecture. Keeping the intention of checking several places, I met friends in a lesser-key bar Ninja, but never left, music and easy environment settled us until the time was closed.

My journey ended with departure from Arlanda Airport at 5 am: I gave suitability for Italy’s major home to suitability and terriblely sealed inconveniences. Still in my flight-Mode Zombie State, I was dreaming about most of my comfortable train Odyssey, about the landscape I saw and cities in which I was briefly a part.